


still healing

by coffeeandchemicals



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Billy Hargrove Needs a Hug, Character Study, Comfort, M/M, Neil Hargrove's A+ Parenting, Post-Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:47:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27494467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeeandchemicals/pseuds/coffeeandchemicals
Summary: It’s November before Billy is released from the hospital with strict instructions from his physiotherapist that the only physical activity he can do is walking (“But go slow, your body’s still healing). Billy had grumbled and growled at that; he wasn’t used to feeling this weak.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 45
Kudos: 112





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on tumblr!
> 
> Please mind the tags! If I’ve missed something, please let me know.

It’s November before Billy is released from the hospital with strict instructions from his physiotherapist that the only physical activity he can do is walking (“But go slow, your body’s still healing). Billy had grumbled and growled at that; he wasn’t used to feeling this weak. He was already feeling the itching, buzzing energy roiling under his skin, trying to get free. But he listens – he knows what happens when he pushes himself too hard after an injury – whether from basketball or Neil or him getting into some stupid one-upmanship contest with whoever he’d been hanging around with. 

So, Billy walks.

And, to his dismay, walking is fucking hard. It takes all of his energy – the energy that he thought was bottomless, clearly he’s found the bottom now – to get one block from his house. And, looking over his shoulder, he wonders if he’ll be able to get back to it. He takes a deep, stuttering breath, and tries to force down all the feelings that come rushing up from his stomach: fear that he’ll never get back to what he was, sadness over all the things he took for granted, anger over the things he did and the things that were done to him. 

“Hey, man,” a voice says from behind him. 

Billy turns to see Steve Harrington of all people standing on the sidewalk a few feet from him. Steve’s got his hands shoved into his pockets and collar flipped up against the wind. Billy sees that his car is parked further down the street and he hunches his shoulders inwards, as if he’s trying to protect himself from an oncoming blow. But the blow doesn’t come; they’ve put their differences behind them. Billy had apologized in short broken sentences that spilled out months ago when Steve had come to visit him in the hospital. And Steve had looked at him, with bags under his eyes and said, “It’s okay, Billy, it’s okay.” And Billy had believed him, had taken him at his word. 

Steve strolls towards Billy as if he has all the time in the world, as if the November chill isn’t bothering him at all, as if Billy is someone he actually wants to spend his valuable time with. And Billy tenses, not sure what to do or what to say. 

“I gotta pick up Max,” Steve says, “they’re all meeting at the arcade.” He stops next to Billy and seems to take in Billy’s rigid posture and pinched mouth. Steve glances up and down the very deserted street and says, “You wanna walk with me?” He sticks out his elbow and grins at Billy, face open and calm. 

And Billy, who is so used to doing things on his own, to putting on a brave face, to being the bad guy, doesn’t know what to do. Steve slowly grabs Billy’s hand and pulls it through the loop of his elbow so they’re standing side-by-side, shoulder-to-shoulder. Billy feels the heat radiating from Steve and lets himself sag just a little bit, lean just a little bit onto Steve. He hopes that Steve won’t mind taking some of his weight until he’s strong enough to take it back again. 

“You know,” Steve says, as they move slowly towards Billy’s house, “I think I need to exercise more – got all this excess energy since I don’t play basketball anymore. Same time tomorrow?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to write another chapter for this from Steve's perspective, as is my MO apparently. I hope you enjoy!

On the day Billy’s released from the hospital, Max calls Steve. “Billy’s home,” is all she says, like she doesn’t need to say more. She doesn’t. Steve knows what she means: Billy’s home, but he’s not himself and maybe he never will be, and I don’t know what to do about it and Steve, can you help him? And – 

“Okay,” Steve says, “want me to come by later?”

“Yeah.”

It’s late afternoon when Steve pulls up on Cherry Lane, but the sun has already started to set, making long shadows across frosty yards. The temperature is starting to drop, and Steve wouldn’t be surprised if they got snow tonight. He sees Billy right away, hunched over, hood up, blonde curls sticking out at the edges – the curls finally growing back from when they were unceremoniously shorn at the hospital. Steve pulls over and parks, taking in Billy’s stance, and sees him sway a little bit. 

Steve gets out of the car and wanders towards Billy, afraid that any sudden noises will startle him, frighten him off like a wild animal. He stops a few feet away and says, “Hey, man.”

Billy slowly turns to look at him and Steve takes in everything. He sees the dark circles that look like bruises around Billy’s eyes, indicative of a weariness so deep that it’s a wonder Billy’s able to stand at all. He sees the pallid skin drawn around his mouth and stretched across his cheeks; the summer tan has been bleached away as Billy’s body tries to heal itself. He sees the perpetual downturn of Billy’s mouth that has created deep lines – crevices – that belong on the face of an old man. He sees the slope of Billy’s shoulders, hunched over, bowed in, projecting an air of defeat and resignation. 

Steve sees all of this and takes it all in, internalizing it to fixate on later; just someone else’s pain to add to his own. Steve’s own pain has transformed into this muted slumbering beast that lies just under his skin, clawing at him when he’s reminded of the things he’s done or said that hurt someone, of the person he used to be, of the guilt he now carries. Time and support have quieted this beast, corralled it, tamed it, so it’s mostly docile. Steve had Robin and Nancy and Dustin and all the others to commiserate with, to hold onto, to somehow move on from all the things that have happened. 

But Billy is alone. And he looks so tired, like he’s teetering on the edge, waiting for something or someone to push him over. 

And he’s looking at Steve like he’s expecting Steve to be the one to do it. 

Steve swallows, feels that beast abrade its claws along his spine. Guilt, always more guilt. “I gotta pick up Max,” he says, as he strolls over, “they’re all meeting at the arcade.” He looks up and down the street and finally realizes where Billy’s standing. 

Steve remembers breaking his leg when he was fourteen – Tommy had dared him to climb one of the tall trees that bordered his backyard; Steve had misjudged the branch he’d been sitting on and fallen. Six weeks later, he was out of the cast and ready to get back to normal. He quickly found out that his “normal” was no longer where it used to be – he couldn’t keep up with Tommy on the court, jump as high, change directions on a dime. His stamina and ability had come back but it had taken weeks. And all the while, he’d felt like there was something wrong with him because he hadn’t been able to bounce back; he’d felt left behind. And he’d just broken his leg. But, Billy, well, so much worse had happened to Billy. 

So, standing with Billy, a block away from Billy’s house, Steve had an inkling of the frustration Billy was feeling, the betrayal Billy was feeling by his own body. Here, at least, Steve can help. “You wanna walk with me,” he says, and sticks out his elbow. 

But Billy just stares at him, eyes narrowed and wary, like he doesn’t know what Steve is expecting of him. Steve reaches out ever so slowly, ever so cautiously, with his other hand and gently grabs Billy’s hand and pulls it through his arm. Then he waits, letting Billy adjust to being this close to someone; Steve gives himself permission to also relish this closeness. 

Steve feels the moment Billy relaxes, feels the moment Billy allows Steve in, feels the moment Billy lets Steve take some of his burden. And it lifts Steve up, makes him stand straighter, quells that slumbering beast. 

They start walking. One slow step after another, each lessening the distance back to Billy’s house. And Steve can feel the tension slowly leave Billy’s body as Billy realizes that Steve is fine with going as slow as Billy needs. 

“I think I need to exercise more,” Steve says, looking at Billy out of the corner of his eye, hoping this won’t be taken the wrong way, “got all this excess energy since I don’t play basketball anymore.” He sees a small smile appear on Billy’s lips and disappear almost as quickly. Steve feels warmth spread through him; the chill in the air doesn’t touch him. “Same time tomorrow?”

**Author's Note:**

> Any comments or kudos are greatly appreciated! I might add more if the inspiration strikes!
> 
> I'm on tumblr! You can find me @ [coffeeandchemicals](https://coffeeandchemicals.tumblr.com/).


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